Saturday, March 30, 2013

While the
editorial staff prepares a more detailed feature on Tubbs and his music, we
thought we’d revisit “how it all began” by using his performance of Tin Tin Deo as the soundtrack to the
following video montage which salutes some of England’s earlier Jazz record companies.

Recorded in London
in December, 1959 and subsequently issued on CD by Jasmine records as Tubby
Hayes – “The Eight Wonder” [JASCD 611], the idea, according to Tony
Hall who produced the date, “was to use pianist Terry Shannon, bassist Jeff
Clyne and drummer Phil Seamen in their primary role as an accompanying rhythm
section thus allowing Tubby to stretch out and just blow with no restrictions whatever
on the time.”

Richard Cook and
Brian Morton had this to say about Tubby’s efforts on “The Eight Wonder” [JASCD
611], in the Penguin Guide to Jazz on CD, 6th Ed.:

“The Eight Wonder gets top rating [4 stars]… it is perhaps
Hayes’ most eloquent showcase. It’s true that the virtuosity of Tin Tin Deo comes out of his horn all
too easily; almost as if it were a routine that he’d mastered without thinking,
but it’s hard not to enjoy the spectacle of … the tough-minded improvising.”

Hayes recorded
prolifically, but the quality of these recordings are uneven at best.

Cook and Morton
perhaps offer an explanation for this paradox when they observe:

“Tubby Hayes has
often been lionized as the greatest saxophonist Britain ever produced. He is a fascinating but
problematical player.

Having put
together a big, rumbustious tone and a deliv­ery that features sixteenth notes
spilling impetuously out of the horn, Hayes often left a solo full of brilliant
loose ends and ingen­ious runs that led nowhere in particular.

Most of his
recordings, while highly entertaining as exhibitions of sustained energy, tend
to wobble on the axis of Hayes's creative impasse: having got this facility
together, he never seemed sure of what to do with it in the studio, which may
be why his studio records ultimately fall short of the masterpiece he never
came to make.”

While I agree in
the main with Cook and Morton’s assessment of Tubby’s frequently unrealized
potential due to what they describe as his “creative impasse,” there are no road
blocks or detours ahead in the solo he lays down on Tin Tin Deo.

See what you
think.

[Incidentally, for
those of you interested in such things, Tin
Tin Deo is in the minor with a Latin Jazz feel to all but the bridge. It is
of an unusual construction – 48 bars in length comprising two 16 bar sections,
a middle 8 in 4/4 time and a final 8 which reverts to the second 8 measures of
the 16 bar sections.]

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Sometimes it’s fun
to look back and see how much things can change in a person’s lifetime.

Digital sound
files may have been a nascent idea as the second half of the 20th
century began, but recorded music was still analog-based.

The music was
preserved on tape and then transferred to vinyl by record companies who owned
the rights to the music.

Cover art or
photography was commissioned, someone wrote the notes and compiled the track
information for the back cover and off went the newly minted 33 1/3 rpm
long-playing records to a wholesale distributor who then made them available to
retail outlets.

There are still
recording companies today, some very large and others of the boutique variety
which are usually devoted to a specific style of music. Much of today’s music
is self-produced.

Almost all of
today’s music is recorded digitally and distributed primarily through compact
disc or some form of downloadable file-sharing system.

I doubt that the
following story that John Tynan, the then West Coast Editor of Downbeat magazine, recounts of the first
15-years or so of Capitol Records’ existence could be written today.

"WHEN A RECORD COMPANY erects a
$2,000,000 temple to its own greatness, it's time to probe the where­fore.

About the time of
the outbreak of World War II in Europe,
a quiet young Iowan named Glenn Wallichs was oper­ating a small recording
studio at 5205 Hollywood Boulevard. With the country just pulling out of the
depression, things were beginning to improve a bit business-wise, but it was
still a scuffle for many small enterprises such as Wallichs'.

Sharing the
premises with the record­ing studio, even to using the same tele­phone, was a
radio announcer who owned a record store he called "The Stomp Shop."
His name was Al Jarvis. Also operating from the same location — and using that
same serviceable phone — were Charles Emge and Ward Humphrey the publishers of
a lively weekly magazine, Tempo,
which chron­icled the music activities of the west coast throughout the '30s. From
this rather unseemly beginning grew Cap­itol Records.

WITH THE TURN of
the decade Wallichs decided to open a record store. To this end he entered into
partnership with his father, Oscar, who at the time owned an appliance shop in Hollywood. Together they launched MusicCity.

MusicCity quickly became hangout for assorted
songwriters, pluggers, working musicians. Anyone connected in any way with the
music business in Hollywood inevitably headquartered there on a cracker barrel basis.

One such songwriter,
Johnny Mercer, who made MusicCity his base of social and professional
operations, had by 1941 formed a fast friendship with Wallichs. The
epoch-making negotia­tions between Mercer and Wallichs that led to Capitol's
founding reportedly went something like this:

Wallichs:
"Johnny, how would you like to start a record company?"

Mercer: "I
wouldn't. But I know someone who would."

Wallichs:
"Who is he? Can you get hold of him?"

Mercer:
"Name's Buddy DeSylva. He's head of production at Para­mount."

Wallichs:
"Let's get together with him and talk this thing over."

B. G. (Buddy)
DeSylva did indeed want to start a record company. The three pooled resources,
with DeSylva putting up $25,000 to kick the venture off. Wallichs contributed
his technical and organizational know-how, and Mercer's offering was equally
priceless — his genius for writing good
songs.

SO IT WAS DONE. In
July of 1942 Capitol Records elected as its first offi­cers, B. G. DeSylva,
president; Johnny Mercer, vice president; Glenn Wallichs, general manager.

What followed
belongs a little in the realm of fantasy. Capitol first releases consisted of
six sides, among them Cow Cow Boogie
with music by Benny Carter and lyrics by Don Raye and Gene DePaul. Ella Mae
Morse did the rocking vocal with the Freddy Slack orchestra. For anyone who has
been conscious of popular American music over the last 15 years, nothing more
need be said about Cow Cow Boogie.
Along with Mercer's Strip Polka, it
virtually put Capitol Records in busi­ness.

With that
extraordinary acumen that enabled him to see the potential in a west coast
record company interested in producing well recorded, good pop material,
Wallichs immediately inno­vated another policy that was to revolu­tionize the
marketing strategy of phon­ograph records. He announced the plan of providing
disc jockeys throughout the country with complimentary copies of all Capitol
records. The idea proved so successful that soon the other big companies
followed suit.

THE YOUNG FIRM grew phenome­nally. Soon the demand for
Capitol's product was so great that an agree­ment was reached for the Scranton
Record Co. to supply limited amount of vital shellac in addition to that which
already was contracted for in Holly­wood.

In the first six
months of Capitol's existence, hits like Ella Mae Morse's Mr. Five By Five, Elk's
Parade by Bobby Sherwood, and Johnny Mercer's I Lost My Sugar in Salt Lake City further consolidated the
company's economic position. Branch offices were opened in Chicago and New York, and the following year two more were
started in Atlanta and Dallas.

The second year of
Capitol's life was marked, among other things, by the in­troduction of another
new factor in the record business, the News
Maga­zine. In addition, the careers of Jo Stafford, Nat Cole, Peggy Lee,
Stan Kenton, and songwriter Dick Whiting's young daughter, Margaret, were
spawned on the label in 1943.

No big-time record
company is with­out its quota of album releases, and Capitol had big-time
aspirations by 1944. A package titled Songs
by John­ny Mercer was released to meet with immediate success, shortly
followed by a second album aimed at the growing kiddy market, Stories for Children By the Great
Gildersleeve.

WAR'S END saw an
increasing ex­pansion by the label. In 1945, 14 albums were released and
marketed to be joined by 19 more in 1946, one of which proved to be the biggest
selling item in the children's field, Bozo
at the Circus. The same year also witnessed the inau­guration of the
Capitol Transcriptions firm and the outright purchase of Scranton Record Co.
for $2,000,000. Capitol went on the market as a result, issuing its first stock
April 30, 1946, offering 95,000 shares of common stock.

When the American
Federation of Musicians imposed a ban on all re­cording by its members in 1947,
Capi­tol plunged into a furious whirl of re­cording activity before the pre-announced
deadline, thereby obtaining a huge backlog of sides. Among these discs, which
turned into smash sellers, were Manana
by Peggy Lee, Nature Boy by Nat Cole,
and Pee Wee Hunt's Twelfth Street Rag.

One of the more
remarkable facts about this remarkable business enter­prise is that the most
profitable year in Capitol's history was 1948, a gloomy year indeed for the
entire rest of the industry. Capitol's sales spiraled to $16,862,450, with a
profit of $1,315,847, and this bumper year saw them extend their market to
foreign countries.

THE FIRST FIVE years of the 1950s were a continuation of
the success story, climax of which was reached last year with the purchase of
96.4% of Capitol Records, Inc., by the British firm of Electric and Musical
Industries, Ltd., for $8,500,000, with Glenn E. Wallichs retained as president
of the company.

In 13 years
Capitol has risen from a less than audacious dream given ut­terance in a record
store to Big BIG Business in the commercial music world. With its new
international head­quarters completed and occupied this month, the Capitol
Tower stands above Hollywood and Vine as a monument to the three men who begot
the enterprise out of their creative talents, drive, initiative, and
imagination — the late Buddy DeSylva, Glenn Wallichs, and tunesmith Johnny
Mercer.”

Capitol Bandwagon Is Booming

“Should big bands
ever rise to the peak of popularity they once knew, no one could be happier
about it than Capitol Records. For they have assembled the most imposing list
of top name orchestral talent to be found on any label.

And even if the
music world never again experiences the phenomenon of bands leading the
record-selling parade, Capitol is evidently quite satisfied with the results
its stable is achieving even now.

In addition, they
have the big-selling Benny Goodman BG in
Hi-Fi album still going for them, and though Duke Ellington recently left
the company, there are discs of his still in the catalog as well as some
yet-unreleased sides in the bank.

Plus which Guy
Lombardo is now in the Capitol ranks — a man who sells steadily and well.” [!]

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

“Superficially, his paintings give the
appearance of conventional European landscapes, but Namatjira painted with
'country in mind' and continually returned to sites imbued with ancestral
associations. The repetition, detailed patterning and high horizons—so
characteristic of his work—blended Aboriginal and European modes of depiction.”

- Sylvia Kleinert, Australian Dictionary of Biography

“Chet Baker was a man who breathed beautiful
music.”

- Ira Gitler

I was having a difficult
time finding suitable music to use as the audio track to the video tribute to
Albert Namatjira that appears at the end of this piece.

And then I
happened on trumpeter Chet Baker’s version of Russ Freeman’s The Wind and it suddenly just all came
together.

The title of Russ’
tune and the lightness of its melody seemed like the perfect fit for Albert’s
watercolors of the windswept Australian landscape. The Windseems almost
audible when viewing Albert’s paintings.

Russ Freeman wrote
music for and performed with Chet for many years in the 1950’s, both in clubs
and on a number of records. Johnny Mandel’s string arrangement marvelously
enhances the melody that Russ wrote for The
Wind.

Chet’s playing
nearly always leaves me shaking my head at its originality.

Ira
Gitler
expresses the reasons why in his insert notes to Chet Baker with Strings: “The
way he approached his art transcended any mechanical thought processes. The notes
and phrases were at his lips and fingertips without his consciously having to
think about them. The overall effect imparted by his delivery makes one feel
this way. He was a man who breathed beautiful music.”

As Ted Gioia comments in his book about West Coast
Jazz: “Despite the travails of his offstage life, Baker stands as one of the
finest soloists that Jazz ever produced.”

Gene
Lees
declared: “I consider Chet Baker an enormously under-rated musician. I didn’t
always get the point of his understated music. But one day I came to love the
gentle, lyrical beauty of his playing and the trusting sensitivity of his
singing.”

Charles Champlin,
the late entertainment editor of The Los
Angeles Times mused: “He and his contemporaries played the score for the Los Angeles I knew. In its go-ahead optimism, its
mobility and its congeniality, it reflected for me the excitement and sense of
promise of Southern
California
itself.”

Bernie Fleischer,
President of the American Federation of Musicians Hollywood, CA Local 47 from
1986-1991 maintained: “If genius can be defined as knowing more than one could
possibly learn, Chet Baker was a true genius.”

Chet Baker sensed
and felt his way through Jazz. His was not a studied conception, yet he could
play sometimes with amazing accomplishment.

As some critics
have argued, he did stick to the middle range of the horn,
but so what? If you want to listen to bass clef, go hear a trombone player.

Chet played the
middle range of the trumpet with a quiet beauty and an inventiveness that
simply have no place in the upper range of the instrument. Why be shrill and
scream-like, when you can play scintillatingly long lines with an almost Lennie
Tristano like logic in the pretty register of the trumpet?

Perhaps Albert
Namatjira’s watercolors and Chet Baker’s trumpet playing go together so well
because each, in its own way, was a modest proposition.

Albert’s work
focuses on landscapes that “pull” the readers focus in-and-out of them. His
images are at once arresting and simple. Much like Chet’s music, the viewer takes
away an impression of moderation, restraint, and self-possession from looking
at them.

Albert Namatjira
[1902-1957] was an Aboriginal or indigenous Australian artist who was born. into
the Arrernte community at the Hermannsburg Lutheran Mission, near Alice
Springs, Northern Territory in the Western MacDonnell Ranges of the
subcontinent.

He was one Australia’s most notable artists. His work,
watercolor landscapes of Central Australia, is represented in all of the AustralianState art galleries.

Namatjira met
Australian artist Rex Battarbee who visited Hermannsburg in 1934. Battarbee
tutored Namatjira in the western tradition of painting and helped him to
organize his first exhibition in Melbourne in 1936. This exhibition was a success and
Namatjira was encouraged to exhibit his work in Adelaide and Sydney. Other exhibitions of his work followed,
especially during the 1950s.

The capacity of
light to flatten, fragment, illuminate or hide the forms that comprise the
land, as perceived by the eye at unique moments in time, were not the only
qualities that inspired Albert Namatjira. Solid matter that we know to be red,
brown or green is seen by the eye as mauve, purple or blue when viewed from a
distance. The steep rays of the noonday sun falling directly into a narrow
gorge can change subtle shadows into a vibrant orange within a matter of
minutes. Sunrise and sunset ignite solid matter into fire.

Namatjira's early
paintings of mountains rely on alternate placement of light and dark areas
within broad, relatively flat shapes, to establish the effect of the sun in
defining its unique topography and enclosing folds. Later works go on to
explore the complex ways in which light both shapes and dissolves three-dimensional
form. Namatjira achieves this through the introduction of linear patterns that
intersect as they curve around the mountain's perimeters and sweep down its
slopes to establish the illusion of shadows.

Like Chet Baker’s
solos, Namatjira’s work is defined by allusions and changing patterns of
textures; it’s constantly “moving” if such a thing can be said about an art
form that is portrayed in a one-dimensional setting.

See what you think
of Albert’s art and Chet music together; two “naturals,” each in their own way.

Monday, March 25, 2013

I love the sonority of all instruments in a Jazz setting, but sometimes I think that nothing is more emotionally intriguing in a Jazz groove than the human voice, especially with it is inflected with a bossa nova beat and the lyrics are sung in Portuguese by Ivan Lins, whose music is one of the joys of my life.Judge for yourself.[The video-taping is quite professional so you my wish to play this one at full screen.]

Thursday, March 21, 2013

notebook as a passacaille—that is, only its bass
progression is duplicated in the varia­tions, where indeed it is treated with
suf­ficient rhythmic flexibility to meet the harmonic contingencies of such
diverse contrapuntal structures as a canon upon every degree of the diatonic
scale, two fughettas, and even a quodlibet (the super­position of street-songs
popular in Bach's times).

Such alterations as are
necessary do not in any way impair the gravitational compulsion which this
masterfully propor­tioned ground exerts upon the wealth of melodic figurations
which subsequently adorn it. Indeed, this noble bass binds each variation
with the inexorable assurance of its own inevitability.”[Emphasis, mine]

- Glenn Gould, concert pianist

At the conclusion
of this piece, I have re-posted a video retrospective of the artwork of Clifton
Karhu because I wanted to dwell a bit more on the technical virtuosity of the
music that accompanies it as played by the Joris Roelofs Quartet. [Karhu - 1927-2007 - lived and worked in Japan for many years and drew his inspiration
from the traditional Japanese woodblock print masters of the 19th
century.]

The musicianship
on this recording is of such a high quality that it does justice to the roots
in modern Jazz from which it draws its influence – the “school” of Jazz founded
by pianist-composer Lennie Tristano and his main collaborators, alto
saxophonist Lee Konitz and tenor saxophonist, Warne Marsh.

The super cool,
deeply harmonically and very intellectual style of Jazz that Lennie, Lee and
Warne played did not find very many, subsequent devotees, although
contemporaneous musicians like pianist Alan Broadbent and alto saxophonist and flutist
Gary Foster could be said to be somewhat reflective of its tenets.

I hope to have more
to say about Alan and Gary’s collaborations in a future profile about
Gary.

This JazzProfile
derives it’s title from The Goldberg Variations, “one of the
monuments of keyboard literature” which was published in 1742 while Johann
Sebastian Bach [1685-1750] held the title of Polish Royal and Saxon electoral
court-composer.

Glenn Gould’s 1955
Columbia Masterpiece Performances [MYK-38479] recording of The Goldberg Variations never
fails to leave me shaking my head in amazement at the grandeur and scope of
Bach’s conception and Gould’s pianistic talent in accomplishing it.

But although the
music on the audio track to the Karhu video tribute may be said to be
representative of both the Tristano school of Jazz and J. S. Bach’s Goldberg Variations, particularly in its
use of bass clef figures played by the piano and the bass [see above quotation
by Glenn Gould], it is very much its own music.

And what music it
is – commanding, lively and full of energy.

The tune is
entitled The Rules and was composed by New York-based pianist
Aaron Goldberg. It forms part of the
music on the Introducing the Joris Roloefs Quintet CD [Materials Records MRE-023-2].

Joris, a rising
young star on the European Jazz scene, came to New York to record this album along with Aaron,
bassist Matt Penman and drummer Ari Hoenig.

The Rules is based on a tonal center which is interlaced
throughout its performance by the use of a six-note phrase that Aaron carries,
primarily, with his left-hand, and, at times, in unison with bassist Penman to
bring added emphasis.

The constant
repetition makes the phrase very insistent but all of the soloists do a
masterful job of bobbing and weaving in and around it without ever being
overcome by it.

The sustained
intensity that the group maintains really consumes the listener; one keeps
expecting it to breakout at some point, but it never does.

In the absence of
any means to record them, some experts maintain that J.S. Bach’s Goldberg Variations are really Bach’s
improvisations put to pen and ink.

While listening to
Aaron’s recorded solo on The Tunes, I
began wondering what future pianists might make of his improvisations if they,
too, were to be “notated” for posterity?

Obviously these
notations would not be as complex as the knuckle-busters Bach composed, and yet,
in their own way, perhaps just as challenging and interesting.

There are three
solos on The Rules, but the solo
order is unusual: piano, then drums [!] with the lead instrument, Joris’ alto
sax, soloing last before the group returns to the theme to close out the piece.

Each is a long
improvisation that makes great use of space. There are no chord progressions to
be run or melodic frameworks to navigate or modal scales to set a course
through. The music literally has to be created from the ground up from a very
limited foundation. Such are The Rules to The
Rules.

But make no
mistake. This is not “Free Jazz” with the worst connotations that references to
that 1960’s style can arouse. And it is not an exercise in sterile
intellectualism. The music is formed in the minds of the musicians using the
repetitive six-note phrase as a point of departure.

This is some of
the most powerful and emotional Jazz you’ve ever experienced.

Ari Hoenig’s solo
reminds me of drummer Shelly Manne’s axiom that “the hands should not rule the
way you play the instrument.” He meant by this that the drummer should play
music first and not show off technique. Of course, Shelly had both, and so does
Ari, who plays one heck of a drum solo on this performance.

The Rules ends in an explosion of sound and with what
musicians refer to as a “surprise ending.”

As Jazz moves
forward in the 21st Century, players such as Aaron, Joris, Matt and
Ari will not only add their brilliant improvisational ideas to its legacy, but
also bring to it, an enormous quantity of technical skills which with to
execute them.

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

“If modern jazz becomes
indelibly linked with manslaughter, murder, mayhem, wise­cracking private eyes
and droll policemen, the brunt of the responsibility must be borne by composer
Henry Mancini. Be­cause of him the point is rapidly being reached where no
self-respecting killer would consider pulling the trigger without a suitable
jazz background.

Seriously, Henry Mancini has
become a pacesetter. Immediately after the first episode of the TV series
"Peter Gunn," Mancini's modern jazz background score became a topic
of general conversation. The Music from
Peter Gunn, his first RCA Victor album (LPM/LSP-1956), rocketed into the
nation's number one best-selling spot with the muzzle velocity of a police
positive. Various recordings of the main theme music became top single records.

With all this excitement, it
was inevitable that others should follow Mancini's lead. TV detectives now
swash, buckle and make love to the strains of modern jazz.”

- Bill Olofson, liner notes to More
Music From Peter Gunn [RCA LPM-2040]

Had it not been
for a chance meeting with producer-director Blake Edwards, I daresay that Henry
Mancini may not have had the opportunity to fulfill his lifelong dream of
writing music for the movies.

There was no
television when the dream first took shape in Henry’s mind after his father
took him to see Cecil B. DeMille’s movie version of The Crusades.

The year was 1935.
Henry was eleven-years old.

In the 23-years
between that fateful day at the Lowe’s Penn Theaterin Pittsburg, PA and
bumping into Blake as he was coming out of the Universal Studios barber shop in
North
Hollywood, CA, Henry Mancini had become a masterful
composer-arranger. He did so with a minimum of formal education; essentially by
learning through doing.

As the late,
writer Ray Bradbury once put it: “You make yourself as you go.”

After serving as a
rifleman in World War II, Mancini
married and, at his wife Ginny’s suggestion, he relocated to southern California to pursue his dream. Once there, he landed a job in the music
department at Universal Pictures.

Henry did every job
imaginable at Universal’s music room from copying scores to writing incidental
music to even writing scores for
forgettable-at-the-time-later-to-become-cult-classic-“B”-films like The Creature from the Black Lagoon.

Henry, too, might
have been forgotten if he hadn’t been for the advent of television as a popular
form of entertainment in the 1950s.

And, a rendezvous
with obscurity might have loomed even larger for Henry had he not run into Blake
Edwards, an old acquaintance, that fateful day in 1958 on the Universal back
lot.

What’s the old
adage: “I’d rather be lucky than good[?]”

Henry Mancini was
a couple of years younger than Blake at the time of there chance meeting [36
and 38, respectively].

The studio system
that maintained staff orchestras and staff composer-arrangers was coming to an
end and Mancini has just lost his job. He had a wife and three children to
support.

As they were
parting company, Blake asked Henry if he would be interested in doing a TV show
with him.

“Sure,” said
Mancini, “what’s the name of it?”

Edwards said “It’s
called Peter Gunn.”

Mancini asked:
“What is it, a Western?”

Edwards, replied:
“You’ll see.”

The rest is
history.

Starring Craig
Stevens asthe stylish private-eye, Peter Gunn was to become one of the
most successful series in that genre.

Thanks to
Mancini’s genius, it would also lead to major changes in how music was written
for television and the movies.

For Peter Gunn, Henry Mancini wrote the
first full score in television history.

Both Blake Edwards
and Henry Mancini went on to have illustrious television and movie careers that
resulted in fame and fortune, distinction and awards, and the comforts of a
satisfying and stylish life.

But for me, the epitome Henry Mancini’s composing and
arranging always began and ended with his exciting and energetic work on the
music for Peter Gunn.

The Jazz pulse
with which he infused the music for that TV series has influenced and informed
my Jazz consciousness for over fifty years.

One of my great
treats in life is to return to this music and savor its timeless brilliance.

Much of the music
that Mancini wrote for Peter Gunn features
small group Jazz, but Blue Steel, which is from the second album – More
Music for Peter Gunn – is composed for a full big band, one that
certainly roars on this track.

Led by a trumpet
section of Conrad Gozzo [lead], Pete Candoli[soloist], Frank Beach
and Graham Young – can you imagine?! – and an orchestra that also includes five
trombones, four French Horns, four woodwinds and four rhythm, Blue Steel is a veritable explosion in
sound.

Hank’s music
always seems to bubble with enthusiasm and humor; its bright, bouncy and bops
along.

Blue Steel is only 3:39 minutes in length and yet it
is brimming over with compositional devices – vamps, interludes and riffs that
launch the soloists; half-step modulations and dynamics that are constantly
building in the background until Hank rushes the band effervescently to the
foreground; glissandos that probe and punctuate the arrangement; a throbbing
walking bass that starts and stops to heighten suspense; vibes-guitar-piano
playing mice-running-along-the-piano-keys figures to create a furtive sonority;
flute “choirs” interspersed with vibes and then with a piano solo; a trumpet
solo that soars over bass trombone pedal tones and ascending, and then,
descending French Horns [see if you can catch Pete Candoli’s reference to Your Getting to Be a Habit With Me in
his solo].

And just when you
think the band is going to explode, Hank brings in a fanfare played by the
orchestra in unison with Conrad Gozzo screaming out three, high note blasts to
close the piece with a rush of orchestral adrenalin.

This is the music
of a master orchestrator at work. Few arrangers have ever called upon a greater
palette of colors in their arrangements. Mancini music always seem to have a
mysterious gift of melody to it which provides him with a strong, inner core to
build his scores upon.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

The following video was filmed at Shelly's in 1970 with Bob Cooper on tenor saxophone, Hampton Hawes on piano, Ray Brown on bass, and, of course, Shelly Manne on drums.The audio and video quality are somewhat lacking by today's standards, but this is over 30 minutes of great Jazz by musicians in a setting, neither of which, exists anymore.The three tunes are Ray's Blues in the Basement, Stella by Starlight and Milestones.Music from a time gone by, but music that is timeless.

Saturday, March 9, 2013

The editorial
staff at JazzProfiles’ recent “discovery” of the following article about
pianist-vocalist-composer Bobby Troup in the November 1954 edition of Theme
Magazine prompted this return visit to archived features of both he and
his wife, vocalist Julie London. You’ll find these earlier pieces plus related
photographs and videos following this article by Herbert Kimmel. By the way, we
think you’ll love the story about how the tune Route 66 came about.

“Imaginative press
agents spend their sleep­less nights dreaming up stories like this for their
clients:

"It happened
in the winter of 1946 at the old Trocodero out on the Sunset Strip. It was
after closing time and the last of the partying night club crowd had finally
drift-ed out into the sleeping city. A few tired musicians were packing their
instruments away for the night, talking very softly.

A nervous young
man, still wearing the deep tan acquired during five years in the South Pacific
as a Marine captain, was being introduced to King Cole. The fellow making the
introduction, who seemed to be the young man's agent, was saying, "Nat,
this is the song-writer I was telling you about. The one who wrote Daddy. Remem­ber
?" King Cole nodded. "Bobby just got in from back east and I want you
to hear some of his tunes before anyone else gets a chance.” Then, the agent
turned to his protege, "How about playing a few songs, Bob?"

The young man bit
his lip as he ap­proached the bandstand. He knew it was foolish for him to be
so jittery, but he couldn't talk himself out of the feeling. As if this were
his first big chance! He re­membered how nervous he had been that time in
Philly, when he was just a twenty-year-old college kid. His friend, Kurt Weiler,
had telephoned him to say that Sammy Kaye had heard his song, "Daisie
Mae," being played by Kurt's small band at the Embassy Club and wanted to
record it.

Still, as he
adjusted the piano stool, he was jittery.
His hands felt cold and stiff as he placed them on the keyboard. This was a
little different from having your song played by your friend's band. He decided
to shout the works and play his best tune first. At the instant he played the
opening chord the stool slipped off the platform supporting it, and stool,
platform, and song-writer tumbled over backwards, all three ending up in a heap
behind the bandstand. What a way to make an impression! But, when he had gotten
back on his feet and re-arranged the stool, he realized that his
vaudeville-type spill had broken the tension. Now his hands felt warm; his
fingers were looser.

When the first
tune was finished, King Cole said he liked it, but wanted to hear some others.
Bobby played every song he had ever written, without satisfying Cole. Finally,
in desperation, he said, "Look, I wrote twelve bars in the car yes­terday,
kind of a blues idea. Maybe you'll like it.' He had thought of the tune while
driving across the desert on highway 66. It had never even been played on a
piano be­fore. Cole loved it as soon as he heard it. He told Bob to finish it
and bring it back the next night.

As simple as that.
All he had to do was compose a song overnight. The next morn­ing he went to a
gas station and got a road-map. Then he went from rehearsal hall to rehearsal
hall at CBS, using any un­occupied pianos he could find. By the time the next
night rolled around, "Route 66" had been completed. The rest is his­tory.'

The only
difference between this story and a press agent's dream is that this one is
true. The remarkable thing about Bob­by Troup's career is the fact that the
same boyish ingenuousness which characterized his piano-fall that night back in
1946 is still noticeable in him every time he sits down to play. Not that he
makes a habit of falling off the stool. Simply, he has nev­er thought of
himself any differently. Put­ting it in corny words, he just hasn't let success
go to his head.

Even after having
composed such nation­wide hits as "Daddy" (nee "Daisy Mae")
and "Route 66," Bobby still found that the going could be pretty
rough. The world of Johnny Mercer and Hoagy Carmichael doesn't have room for
people who produce one or two big hits and expect to loaf around while the
money pours in. Bobby knew this. For six years after Route 66 he devoted all of
his energy to two things, com­posing new songs and trying to assemble a
successful trio. He produced everything, from straight ballads to zany
novelties like "Triskaidekaphobia," "The Three Bears," and
"Hungry Man." Recording artists such as Sarah Vaughan, Lea Brown and
The Page Cavannaugh Trio waxed his tunes.

But none of them
seemed to click real big. His first trio had a quaint, folksy sound, hut
offered very little new in the way of entertainment. Listening to this group
gave you the feeling that the musicians were all such nice friendly boys who
were always smiling. But this wasn't enough to keep the strangers coming in.
The group found its way into almost every cocktail lounge in Los Angeles. Each change of jobs was a step downward
into what seemed would be eventual oblivion. Bobby's spirits ebbed near gloom
when he found the trio being booked into such out-of-the-way saloons as the
Pioneer Club in far away El Monte. He felt so bad about his hard luck that
he couldn't even force himself to try to write another song. Finally, the trio
split up and Bob went back to playing as a single.

After successful
bookings at the Parrot's Cage and The Kings in Hollywood, Bob's confidence slowly returned. With
the for­mation of his new trio, with Bob Enevoldsen on bass and Howard Roberts
on guitar, Bob's piano has become more and more dis­tinctive. The jazz
backgrounds of Enevoldsen and Roberts have rubbed off on Troup with excitingly
salutary effects. Recently, after hearing the Dave Brubeck Quartet when they were in Hollywood, Bobby was very much impressed by Brubeck's
unique percussion approach to the piano. Now, his listeners are getting used to
the surprise of a "Brubeck-type" chorus when it graces the trio's
offerings.

Three other recent
happenings have helped to place the Troup star higher than it has ever been.
With the encouragement and as­sistance of his friend, Johnny Mercer, Bob­by has
become a permanent panelist on the KTTV musical quiz-variety show, Musical
Chairs. Along with Mercer, and master-of-ceremonies Bill Leydon, Bobby spends
his Friday evenings visiting millions of living rooms, via television, singing
songs and clowning around in general. In addition to the regular panelists
named above, each week finds another glamorous feminine star sitting in as
guest panelist along with a male personality. Recent weeks have seen songful
June Christy, lovely Carol Rich­ards, funny-man Dave Barry and the pop­ular Mel Blanc lend
their talents to the show.

The second new
push up the ladder was contrived with the help of Capitol Records. For a short
time last year Bobby tried his luck with a small band. The Septette's first
week at the embers in North Hollywood was so successful that Capitol decided to record it before the
group disbanded. The results of this session have been released on a
long-playing Bobby Troup album. The arrangements were written by Bob Enevoldsen
with a definite jazz concept in mind: to develop the four-reed idea which had
been so effective on Woody Herman's record of Early Autumn. The contrast
established be­tween this sound and Bobby's whispery vo­calizing is striking.
The album has sold so-well that Capitol has recorded additional sides for the
future.

Last of the three
new events, but far from least, are Bobby's newest song hits, "It Hap­pened
Once Before" and "Julie, is Her Name." Writing songs was what
started Bob out into the world of entertainment, and in these tunes he
convincingly indi­cates that it is still his first love. There is warmth and
simplicity in the words and a fresh sound to the tunes. The funny side of the
story of these songs is the fact that they differ from Bobby's other big hits
in that they are romantic ballads. And this is its serious side also, because
underneath Bobby's boyish grin there is a world of simple, romantic idealism.

Which brings us to
the end of the story. Bobby Troup doesn't need a press agent to invent a tale
of rags-to-riches for him. He doesn't want anyone to think of him as be­ing any
different from any other American kid, who went to college and had some fun,
had some luck at times and some tough breaks at others, got married and had two
lovely silken-haired daughters, and above all, worked hard for a long time to
get where he is now. As a matter of fact, when I asked him to give me a few
ideas on what to write about him, all he could think of to say was, "Just
say — Come into the En­core Restaurant and let me play a few songs for
them." And, truthfully, that's the only way to really get what I mean.”

He sang as though he had just
half a voice. No volume, it was all about confiding. Some­times he croaked out
a line, next minute he'd released a word as though he was doubtful about
delivering it to the world at large. Bobby Troup never played to the gallery,
never went for the big one. Yet, despite - or rather because of - such
reluctance, allied to a lemon-twist quality that fell oddly on unaccustomed
ears, the man from Harrisburg,
PA.
still qualified as Mr. Cool, the vocal equivalent of a Paul Desmond alto solo
maybe. He sounded like no one else. And no one else has ever sounded like him.”

- Fred Dellar, Mojo Magazine

We wrote about
composer, pianist and vocalist Bobby Troop in an earlier feature about him and
Julie London which you can locate in the blog archives by going here.

Many of us first
“met” Bobby in the 1950s when he hosted the Emmy award wining ABC television
series, Stars of Jazz.

Can you imagine -
a regular, weekly series on a major television network devoted to Jazz?

It was cool and so
was Bobby.

Since it was based
in Los
Angeles, most of the groups that appeared on the show were associated with
was then labeled the “West Coast” school of Jazz.

There are two
wonderful books on this subject: Ted Gioia, West Coast Jazz: Modern Jazz in California, 1945-1960 and Robert Gordon, Jazz West Coast, The Los Angeles Jazz Scene of the 1950s.

A number of years
ago, The California Institute of Jazz made available to those in attendance at
its Spring 1999 4-day festival celebrating West Coast Jazz , a wonderful CD of
the music from the Stars of Jazz series.

Ken Poston, the
director of the institute, wrote the following in the insert booklet which
accompanied the compendium:

“This anthology has been
assembled exclusively for JAZZ
WEST COAST II, presented by the California Institute for the Preservation of
Jazz. All of the material comes from various Bobby Troup Stars of Jazz
television broadcasts. Stars of Jazz debuted in the summer of 1956 on KABC, Los
Angeles. It was unheard of in the mid 1950s to
televise jazz on a regular basis, but because of the dedication of producer
Jimmie Baker, program director Pete Robinson and host Bobby Troup the program
aired for over two years. It was sponsored by Budweiser and eventually went
from a local to network broadcast. The selections on this disc represent the
incredible range of artists that were beamed into your living room every night.”

—Ken Poston

Incidentally,
Ken’s organization, which now carries the name – The Los Angeles Jazz Institute
[LAJI] – continues to sponsor semi-annual, four day festivals, as well as,
one-day commemorative events. You can find out more about these programs by
visiting Ken’s website at www.lajazzinstitute.com.

In addition to the
LAJI’s repository of goodies, Ray Avery, the late photographer and Jazz
recordings maven, was allowed to photograph the Stars of Jazz.

A compilation of
Ray photographs from these shows was published in 1998.

Cynthia T. Sesso,
who in her own right is a major authority on Jazz photography, licenses Ray’s
work along with the images of a number of other photographers who specialized
in Jazz.

Cynthia has been a
great friend to JazzProfiles over the years in allowing us to use photographs
by her clients on these pages.

You can find out
more about Cynthia and her work at www.ctsimages.com.
She may also have copies of Ray’s book about Stars of Jazz still
available for sale.

Her are some excerpts
from the book’s introduction regarding how Ray came to be involved with the
show and Bobby Troup’s role as contained in an interviewthat Ray gave to Will
Thornbury.

“…, my photography
flowed naturally out of my involvement in my record store. At that time I
wasn't well known as a photographer. I just happened to be there and I had an
entrée because I was in the record business. Most of the small record companies
knew about me because I was carrying their product in my store, they would
invite me to record sessions. I was very seldom paid for a session, except if
they bought some photos. …

One day a friend
of mine asked if I'd seen "Stars Of Jazz" and I said I hadn't, so I
checked the newspaper and found out when it was going to be on. I just went
down, I think it was the second or third show, and I asked them if I could
photograph it. They were very friendly and said yes, of course, just be careful
and don't fall over any cords or walk in front of any cameras."

The host for all
but two Stars of Jazz episodes was Bobby Troup. He embodied the essence of the
show - straightforward, genuine and creative. Perhaps some of the show's
viewers from outside the jazz world were pulled in through Troup's
accessibility. He wore a crew cut. He was a graduate of the University of Pennsylvania with a degree in business and had written
many of the nation's favorite songs "Route 66", "Daddy",
"Lemon Twist", songs that crossed over from the jazz to the popular
charts. In addition to writing songs, he was also an active musician and would
perform often on the show.

"Bobby was
the perfect man", notes Jimmie Baker. 'There were some people who wanted
to have a bigger name, but nobody else could do it. Nobody else had the appeal
that Bobby had." Avery adds, "Bobby was a good musician, had written
great songs and he could be a great master of ceremonies. That's a combination
they couldn't find in anyone else. He spoke really well - he didn't want any of
those corny jazz lines in the script, which was good. He was a really good
interviewer. He made people feel so comfortable when they were there. And of
course they respected him as a musician, many of the sets featured Bobby at the
piano."

"All the
musicians had so much faith in the presentation of "Stars of
Jazz"," Troup says. "They thought it was the best jazz show
they'd ever seen. Did you know the story of how "Stars of Jazz" got
started? Pete Robinson, Jimmie Baker, and Bob Arbogast were all jazz buffs. I
mean they really loved jazz, and there was this executive, Seligman, graduated
from Harvard, Phi Beta Kappa, and they were on him constantly to let them do
this jazz show. Finally just to get them out of his hair, he said 'OK, I'll
give you a studio, a camera, you have to write it, you have to arrange every
musician, no more than scale, and I'll give you three weeks to run the show.' The
first show was Stan Getz. And they screened quite a few people and for some
reason or another they picked me to be the host. I'm sure glad they did. Every
night was a highlight, every night. I did the show for scale, it amounted to
$60 maybe $70 a night. When we went network I got scale for network, which was
more."

Avery adds, "in
those days there weren't the camera men that there are today. Now you go to a
concert and there's fifty people with cameras, but before, maybe half a dozen
of us would show up. Consequently, the photos taken in my early period are the
ones that are in demand now because not many people have them."”

Ironically,
Seligman, who authorized Stars of Jazz and was very boastful
of the program when it won an Emmy Award, never supported the show for a
regular timeslot when it went national on ABC.

Despite the
critical acclaim it received, the show was cancelled of January, 1959 due to
“low ratings.” Seligman was also responsible for ordering that the tapes of the
130 episodes of Stars of Jazz be erased so that they could be reused. After
all, each tape cost $400. Of course, what was recorded on them was priceless!

I guess “Those
whom the gods would destroy, they first make mad?”

Mercifully, Jimmy
Baker of the show’s production team was able to save 35mm’s and 81 of the early
kinescopes, all of which now reside for posterity in the UCLA Film Library.

More of the music
from the series is available on a commercial RCA CD - Bobby Troup Stars of Jazz
[74321433962] - from which we’ve drawn the music for the following tribute.

In his insert
notes to the recording, Pete Robinson, one of the show’s producers, wrote the
following:

“It has been
observed that People Who Live in Glass Houses Shouldn't Throw Stones, and since
Bobby Troup's particular glass house is a collective one, consisting of 17- and
24-inch television screens the country over, it is most important that his
participation in the realm of jazz be exemplary. It is.

As one playing of
the enclosed collection will attest, Mister Troup's qualities of tempo,
intonation, taste and interpretation place him in good stead as a jazz singer
of considerable merit. Nominations in the Down
Beat and Playboy polls add
further to his vocal status.

These fans,
however, will come as no sur­prise to the initiated. Bobby's work has had more
than a little exposure on records. What IS new is the extraordinary group of
jazz musicians who here­with are represented in tandem with Troup. Bobby's
presence as narrator of ABC-TV's "Stars of Jazz" for the past three
years has found him rubbing elbows with players from every corner of jazz. (A
total of 714 of them at this writing, for those who find security in
statistics.)

It was, then, only
a matter of time until an elite group of these jazzmen should come together
with Troup for the purpose of recording. When Shorty Rogers and Jimmy Rowles became available to
provide arrangements, the time was ripe.”

The audio track on
the video is Bobby singing Free and Easy which
he co-wrote with Henry Mancini. The trumpet solos are by Pete and Conte Candoli
and Jimmy Rowles wrote the arrangement.

Originally located
at 4200
Riverside Drive in TolucaLake, Ca, it was a Chinese restaurant that had
a South Sea islands and nautical theme with lots of tiki heads
and bamboo sprouting from every nook and cranny.

For a time it was
best known for being the birthplace of the Hawaiian
Eye drink [think Mai Tai].

The '60s detective,
ABC television show Hawaiian Eye was
filmed at Warner Bros. studios in nearby Burbank, CA and The China Trader was the after-work
hangout of its stars, Robert Conrad, Connie Stevens and Anthony Eisley and of
many members of the crew.

The Hawaiian Eye drink was concocted there
in their honor.

The Falcon Theater
is in The China Trader’s place today.

TolucaLake is a very upscale community located
between Burbank and North Hollywood, CA. Warner Brothers and Universal
Pictures studios are only a few miles away. A 10 minute ride over the BarhamPass takes you into Hollywood.

There really is a
lake in TolucaLake and it is surrounded by very fashionable
homes and a country club that offers access to a marvelous golf course. Bob Hope is probably the best known of TolucaLake’s many long-time residents, but numerous
luminaries associated with the entertainment business live in the community.

For many years,
composer, pianist and vocalist Bobby Troop held forth at The China Trader. He and his wife, actress and song stylist,
Julie London, were residents of TolucaLake. Since his piano was already stationed in
the lounge, Bobby could and did walk to work on some of the nights he appeared
at The China Trader.

Throughout most of
the 1970s, Bobby and Julie were in the cast of the hit NBC TV show, Emergency.
The popularity of the show only served to enhance the gatherings at The China Trader when Bobby was performing
there.

Bobby appeared
solo on Thursday and Sunday nights and with a trio on Friday and Saturday
nights.

Given his low-key
temperament, unassuming personality and acerbic wit, Bobby always kept the atmosphere
in the bar relaxed and cordial.

Julie dropped by
occasionally and when she did, their were always numerous pleadings for her to
sing, but she rarely did.

Bobby was one of
the most comfortable-in-his-own-skin musicians I ever knew. I first met him in 1962 when we were both
involved with the Surfside 6 television show; he as an actor, and me as a member
of the band that recorded the soundtrack for the series.

That year, I was
home on leave following boot camp and he came up to me in the studio and said:
“You’re a Marine.” When I quizzically looked at him following that remark, he
said: “I was a Captain in the corps for three years.”

Over the years, I
kept in touch with Bobby as The China Trader was a stone’s throw away from my
home. I even subbed as the drummer is
his trio on a few occasions.

With over 40 movie
and television appearances to his credit and a slew of royalty checks coming in
from songs he wrote like Route “66,”
Daddy and Lemon Twist, Bobby was
a very busy guy and a fairly well-off one, too. Good for him; not too many
musicians make more than a few schimolies
in the music “business.”

He was very
pleased and proud of writing the tune – The
Meaning of the Blues.

Interestingly,
when Julie was in the mood to sing during her visits to be with Bobby at The
China Trader, she invariably sang this tune.

I recently came
across a version of Julie singing The
Meaning of the Blues with an orchestra under the direction of Russ
Garcia. It’s from her album All
About the Blues which Bobby produced for Capitol [7243 5 38695 2 6] and
it forms the soundtrack to the following video tribute to her.

Here is an excerpt
from James Gavin’s insert notes to the
disc:

“LPs were her true
medium. The queen of the make-out album, London recorded over 30 for Liberty between 1955 and 1969. Supported by a
goose-down blanket of strings or just guitar and bass, she sounded so intimate
that she seemed to be breathing into your ear. Men drooled over the cheesecake
covers, which showed her snuggled in bed, posed in an alley as a scantily-clad
courtesan, or seated backwards in an Eames chair, legs pointed up in a V. ‘I'm
sure she hated all that,’ says Arthur Hamilton, the songwriter who wrote Cry Me A River, her breakthrough hit of
1955. ‘That wasn't Julie at all. She wasn't trying to seduce her audience; she
just blotted them out. She hid inside the song. She didn't like to perform, she
didn't like getting dressed, she didn't like that image she had to live up
to.’”

Phil Woods 5tet Feat. Tom Harrell - "Azure"

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Bassist Chuck Israels on alto saxophonist Phil Woods

Quincy Jones had a band that was preparing to tour Europe in the summer of 1959. The band was rehearsing in the mezzanine of the Olympia Theatre and I somehow wrangled an invitation to attend a rehearsal. It was a great hand with some of Quincy's friends from Seattle, like Buddy Catlett and Patti Brown. Les Spann was the guitarist and played some flute solos. Sahib Shihab was in the saxophone section and Joe Harris played drums. I listened to a number of pieces in which there were solos played by various members of the band. It would be unfair to say that those solos were perfunctory, but later, when Phil Woods stood up from the lead alto chair to play his solo feature, the atmosphere changed. Phil played as if there were no tomorrow. The contrast was striking and I have always remembered the impression it left. If you practice rehearsing, then when the lime comes to perform, you are ready to rehearse. Phil practiced performing.

Legendary 1980 Weckl-Gadd-Colaiuta DRUM SHOWDOWN

Larry Bunker's Advice to a Young Drum Student

"Be yourself, keep good time, play musically and don't show off your "chops" [technique]. The only people who can appreciate them are other drummers, and nobody likes them anyway."

JazzProfiles Readers Forum

You have done a great service by reproducing this article. Gene really created a great portrait of Miller, especially with his new (for the time) interviews.

I was a great admirer of Gene's writing, and can say we were friends. If you like, I can send you a link to a memorial article I wrote for Doug Ramsey's blog Rifftides that I wrote after Gene died. He could be quite frustrating at times, but I learned a lot from him, and he definitely helped me to become a better writer.

Hi. I have been visiting his blog for a few months almost daily and I have to thank him for his work, contributing interesting articles about music and Jazz musicians which is helping me discover new things, to value others that I did not appreciate at the time and to recover some that I enjoyed. and I have forgotten. -Greetings and many thanks from Toledo Spain.

Great write up of one helluva release by Bill Lichtenauer of Tantara Productions. Magnificent list, great technology, and fantastic Kenton sounds. Thanks Steve...and thanks, Bill. And the liner notes were done superbly by Michael Sparke of the UK. Tony Agostinelli

Thanks Steven for making this available to a wider readership. This book was like a "bible" to me when I first started collecting aged 16. I still have my original copy ... complete with marginalia as I filled in my collection. I had to wait until I moved to London in 1958 to acquire many of these albums on the British labels like Esquire .... this brings back so many pleasant memories, but it also reminds me that time does proceed, relentlessly.

Garth.

This book was like a "bible" to me when I was a serious collector, aged 16 .... I still have my original copy, in excellent condition after all these years, over three continents complete with marginalia as I built my collection. Bravo to you Steve for making these early observations available for others to read. Raymond Horricks followed this book up with "These Jazzmen Of Our Time" (Gollancz, 1959), which contained some great early portraits by Herman Leonard.

I met him twice. He was playing at a mall with the Westchester jazz band. That was around 97 or so. They were taking a break and I started talking to him. He was super nice. I mention my grandfather was a jazz trumpet player Bunny Berigan. I did not know who Bill was but like the way he played bass that day. I ran across his book on jazz in the white plains library. I was surprise at knowledge and who he played with in jazz. I seen him again at the same place a year later and got to talk to him.Very nice again to me. I asked him about Zoot Sims. And about Benny Goodman which he your with in Russian . My grandfather played with Benny too at one time. Seems they both found him hard to deal with. What a fine man Bill is.

I discovered Oliver Nelson in 1977 and could not believe my ears. At the time it was obviously a vinyl record and belonged to somebody else. However, thanks to the technology of today I can listen to my cd of Blues and the Abstract Truth to my heart's content. You have told me so much more about this wonderful man's unique style. If I want to feel good, I just listen to Stolen Moments. Thank you.

I have been listening to 1 of greatest piece of orchestration of Stan Kenton style music I've ever listened too arranged by a young trumpet player & arranger Bill Mathieu it's Kenton it Mathieu but mostly a great music . the complexed overlays , blending , fitting in soloists at just the right moment , plus the swelling of the whole orchestra to create the Kenton sound without losing his own indemnity is outstanding . Thank Bill Thank you Stan ... Jim Shelton

Peter Haslund has left a new comment on your post "Mark Murphy: 1932-2015, R.I.P.":

Just discovered Mr. Murphy. Gotta say it leaves me speechless that I listened to jazz since the 80s and never once heard his name. All the stuff that sounded so contrived with Sinatra (who obviously knew he was really singing black people's music) is fresh and free with Mark. RIP.

Hi Steven,

I read with interest your recent piece about the Boss Brass. I live in Toronto, and when it comes to the Canadian jazz scene, it's hard to overstate how influential this band was. Besides the quality of McConnell's arrangements, the musicians were all top-name guys in the city (many with vigorous solo careers). What has always floored me about their playing is the tightness and especially intonation in the woodwinds -- the skill of the horn players at playing doubles (flutes and clarinets) is legendary.

I feel fortunate to have been able to hear them live, on a number of occasions. From the stories I've heard, either third-hand or right from former Boss Brass members, Rob was a really hard guy to work with, but certainly pushed his group toward excellence.

I also liked your recent piece on Pat Martino. I'm a big fan of his style. If you haven't read his autobiography, I highly recommend it! His personal story is, of course, fascinating and inspiring.

Speaking of guitarists, someone you may want to profile someday is the Canadian jazz guitarist Ed Bickert. He was the guitarist for the Boss Brass for many decades. He is now quite elderly and no longer playing, but is another of those guys who was phenomenally influential, though I think he largely flew under-the-radar south of the border.

Thanks for putting together such a great site, and best wishes.

Jordan Wosnick

You can share your thoughts, observations and general remarks in the Readers Forum by contacting JazzProfiles via scerra@roadrunner.com

Hi Steve...I'm not a Facebook or Twitter guy so here's hoping this email reaches you...

You indicated that you were not aware of published Mulligan biographies in your recent post on Gerry and I wanted to bring one to your attention that I think you will like:

JERU'S JOURNEY by Sanford Josephson. It was published in 2015 by Hal Leonard Books. It's part of the Hal Leonard Biography Series which also includes bios of Cannonball Adderley, Herbie Mann & Billy Eckstine.

I own the Adderley and Mann bios and also recommend them.

Jeru's Journey is an easy read and covers Mulligan's life from birth to his passing. It is a very good overview and the author--who knew Mulligan and interviewed him before his passing--tells Gerry's story completely including Mulligan's drug addiction, domestic (wives) issues, etc. along with good musical analysis and insights both of the author's and other musicians. In addition to a good discography there are many photographs.

The list price is $19.99. A good buy.

In closing, I would like to tell you how much I have enjoyed your blog over the years. I have recommended it to many musician friends and all have thanked me. Thanks again for helping to keep the jazz alive...

Bruce Armstrong

You can share your thoughts, observations and general remarks in the Readers Forum by contacting JazzProfiles via scerra@roadrunner.com

Les Koenig was clearly a GIANT despite his obvious preference to be low-key, himself. THANK YOU, Steven Cerra!!! The world is a better place because of people like Les! Like Laurie(Pepper) & the list goes on & on forever! Like YOU, Steven! Thanks to ALL who work behind the scenes, on or off-stage, etc. etc. etc... -in support of the featured "Player" & "Sidemen" so that "We the people..." can be out in the audience having the time of our lives enjoying "the show" or "Artistry, Talent, Efforts" and so on! My attitude is one of gratitude!! THIS art form & ALL original American Art forms must be preserved and encouraged to not only survive, but to thrive!!!

Diz

"Jazz is a gift. If you can hear it, you can have it."

Piano Players: Dick Katz on Erroll Garner

“Unique is an inadequate word to describe Erroll Garner. He was a musical phenomenon unlike any other. One of the most appealing performers in Jazz history, he influenced almost every pianist who played in his era, and even beyond. Self-taught, he could not read music, yet he did things that trained pianists could not play or even imagine. Garner was a one-man swing band, and indeed often acknowledged that his main inspiration was the big bands of the thirties – Duke, Basie, Lunceford, et al. He developed a self-sufficient, extremely full style that was characterized by a rock-steady left-hand that also sounded like a strumming rhythm guitar. Juxtaposed against this was a river of chordal or single note ideas, frequently stated in a lagging, behind-the-beat way that generated terrific swing.” [

Paul Desmond

Cannonball Adderley, who was at one point a rival of Paul's in the various polls and whose robust gospel-drenched playing was worlds apart once said: ‘He is a profoundly beautiful player.’ Writer Nat Hentoff said. "He could put you in a trance, catch you in memory and desire, make you forget the garlic and sapphires in the mud."

Drummers Corner: Larry Bunker on Shelly Manne

“In a truly formal sense, Shelly could barely play the drums. If you gave him a pair of sticks and a snare drum and had him play rudi­ments—an open and closed roll, paradiddles, and all that kind of thing—he didn't sound like much. He never had that kind of training and wasn't inter­ested in it. For him it was a matter of playing the drums with the music. He could play more music in four bars than almost anyone else. His drums sounded gorgeous. They recorded sensationally. All you had to hear was three or four bars and you knew it was Shelly Manne. - Larry Bunker, Jazz drummer and premier, studio percussionist

The 1954 Birdland Recordings of Art Blakey and The Jazz Messengers

The 1954 Birdland recordings on Blue Note provided the stylistic foundation for the rest of Art Blakey's career. His style had completely crystallized. His pulsation was undeniable, a natural force; the counter-rhythms he brought to the mix made what he played that much more affecting. There was a purity about what he did—and always motion. He was spontaneous, free, creating every minute. That he was in the company of peers, all performing in an admirable manner, had a lot to do with making this "on-the-spot" session such an important musical document. The band never stops burning. The exhilarating Clifford Brown moves undaunted through material, fast, slow, in between, playing fantastic, well-phrased ideas that unfold in an unbroken stream. His technique, almost perfect; his sound, burnished. He's a gift to the senses. Lou Donaldson, an underrated alto player in the Bird tradition, offers much to think about while you're tapping your foot. Horace Silver is crucial to the effect of this music, much of it his own. Certainly the rhythms that inform his piano playing and writing make it all the more soulful. On this and other records he serves as a catalytic agent, provoking swing and engaging intensity. Hard-hitting, unpretentious, communicative, Silver has little use for compositional elements or piano techniques that impede his message. A live-in pulse permeates his music and his playing, strongly affecting the shape, content, and level of excitement of his performances and those of his colleagues. An original and tellingly economic amalgam of Parker, the blues, shuffling dance rhythms, and a taste of the black church for flavor, Silver is quite undeniable. Listen to his delightful "Quicksilver" on A Night at Birdland With the Art Blakey Quintet, Vol. 1 (Blue Note). It capsulizes what he does. On this album, Curly Russell shows once again he can play "up" tempos and interesting changes. He ties in well with Blakey. But Silver and Blakey, in combination, determine the rhythmic disposition of the music. Blakey's natural time and fire raise the heat to an explosive level before the listener realizes how hot the fire has become. Perhaps more than other recordings Blakey has made, the Birdland session documents his great strengths and technical failings. At almost every turn, he shows what an enviably well coordinated, buoyantly confident, rhythmically discerning player he is.

BOP AND DRUMS—A NEW WORLD

From the Introduction to Burt Korall, “Drummin’ Men: The Bebop Years”

“It is difficult for young musicians and jazz devotees to fully comprehend the tumultuous effect that the advent of bop had on drummers. The new music demanded new, relevant, trigger-fast, musical, well-placed reactions from the person behind the drum set—an entirely revamped view of time and rhythm, techniques, and musical attitudes.

How well did drummers deal with bop? The innovators, like Kenny Clarke and Max Roach, opened the path and showed how it was done. Young disciples—if they had talent, sensitivity, and the necessary instincts— caught on and made contributions. Other drummers stylistically modified the way they played, trying to combine the old with the new. This was tricky at best. Sometimes it worked; sometimes it was a matter of apples and oranges. Still others fought change and what it implied.

Not welcomed by many swing drummers and their more traditional predecessors, the new wave was looked upon as the enemy, sources of disruption and unnecessary noise. Those stuck in the past could not accept breaking time, using the drum set as both color resource and time center. The structural and emotional differences essential to bebop, the need for virtuosity, and the ability to think quickly and perform appropriately intimidated them. The demands of the music were strange and often devastating; a feeling of hostility built up in them. The basic reasons were quite clear. The new music could ultimately challenge their earning ability and position in the drum hierarchy."

Gerry Mulligan 1927-1996

“… Gerry Mulligan lived through almost the entire history of jazz. It is against that background that he should be understood.” – Gene Lees

Gunther Schuller on Sonny Rollins

“Rhythmically, Rollins is as imaginative and strong as in his melodic concepts. And why not? The two are really inseparable, or at least should be. In his recordings as well as during several evenings at Birdland recently [Fall/1958] Rollins indicated that he can probably take any rhythmic formation and make it swing. This ability enables him to run the gamut of extremes— from almost a whole chorus of non-syncopated quarter notes (which in other hands might be just naive and square but through Rollins' sense of humor and superb timing are transformed into a swinging line) to asymmetrical groupings of fives and sevens or between the-beat rhythms that defy notation. As for his imagination, it is prodigiously fertile. And indeed I can think of no better and more irrefutable proof of the fact that discipline and thought do not necessarily result in cold or un-swinging music than a typical Rollins performance. No one swings more (hard or gentle) and is more passionate in his musical expression than Sonny Rollins . It ultimately boils down to how much talent an artist has; the greater the demands of his art both emotionally and intellectually the greater the talent necessary.”

Artie Shaw on Louis Armstrong as told to Gene Lees

Artie said, "You are too young to know the impact Louis had in the 1920s," he said. "By the time you were old enough to appreciate Louis, you had been hearing those who derived from him. You cannot imagine how radical he was to all of us. Revolutionary. He defined not only how you play a trumpet solo but how you play a solo on any instrument. Had Louis Armstrong never lived, I suppose there would be a jazz, but it would be very different."

Pops

Bill Crow on Louis Amstrong

Louis Armstrong transformed jazz. He played with a strength and inventiveness that illuminated every jazz musician that heard his music. Louis was able to do things on the trumpet that had previously been considered impossible. His tone and range and phrasing became criteria by which other jazz musicians measured themselves. He established the basic vocabulary of jazz phrases, and his work became the foundation of every jazz musician who followed him.

Bassist Eddie Gomez on Pianist Bill Evans

“Bill's music is profoundly expressive. It is passionate, intellectual, and without pretense. Eleven years with his trio afforded me the opportunity to perform, record, travel, and most importantly learn. My development as an artist is largely due to his encouragement, support, and patience. He instilled confidence in me, while at the same time urging me to search for my own voice and for new ways to make the music vital and creative. And Bill believed that repertoire, both new and old, would organically flourish in repeated live performance. In fact, there were precious few rehearsals, even before recording sessions. … When Bill passed away late in 1980, it was clear that all of us in the jazz world had sustained a huge loss. I was shocked and saddened; in my heart I had always felt that some day there would be a reunion concert. Had I been able to look into a crystal ball and foresee his death, perhaps I might have stayed in the trio for a longer period. I still dream about one more set with Bill. He closes his eyes, turns his head to one side, and every heartfelt note seems etched and bathed in gold. How I miss that sound.”

John Coltrane on Stan Getz

Coltrane himself said of the mellifluous Stan Getz, "Let's face it--we'd all sound like that if we could."

Peter Bernstein on Bobby Hutcherson

I got to play with Bobby Hutcherson at Dizzy's a few years ago, which ended up on a CD [2012's Somewhere In The Night on Kind of Blue Records]. I was four feet away from him, thinking, "How is this man just hitting metal bars with wooden sticks with cotton on the end and making such an expressive statement?" The instrument is just like ... it's him! He's imbuing it with his thoughts and feelings. That's a miraculous thing. The instrument itself disappears when you're talking about a master on that level.

Ralph Bowen

“In a way, the entire act of music is mind put into sound. It has to go through some sort of physical medium in order to be heard. I chose the saxophone, but the whole issue is to have such control over the instrument and over what you hear that the instrument physically doesn't get in the way of visualizing sound. Technique to me means dealing with an instrument in the most efficient manner possible so that it's no more than peripheral to expression."